Those Who Wait
by evergreeneyes
Summary: Hermione's life is perfect, except for one thing - she can't seem to have the child she so desperately wants. A Draco/Hermione one-shot. AU.


Those Who Wait

Hermione stared blankly at the muggle pregnancy test which had once again trodden her hopes and dreams into the mud. Perhaps if she stared for long enough the negative result would morph into the one she so desired…

What was she doing wrong?

*****

Draco and Hermione had eaten dinner on Monday evening with Narcissa Malfoy almost every week since they had graduated from Hogwarts as a serious couple. In those ten years Hermione had gotten to know the older woman very well and so, every week, she knew when the dreaded question was coming.

"So, am I to expect a grandchild any time soon? The Malfoy fortune needs an heir."

*****

Harry and Ginny were always telling her she didn't come to visit enough anymore. But every time Hermione saw little James Potter zooming around on his toy broomstick, or Albus climb up onto his father's lap, or baby Lily smile at her mother, she felt the most awful pain in her chest – an indescribable and terrible feeling. Grief and regret and frustration and jealousy all together.

*****

Draco took the newborn baby from Pansy and cooed at it, rocking the tiny bundle and smiling. He looked so happy, so comfortable in the role.

"We'll never get him back now," muttered the new father, Blaise, to Hermione. The Gryffindor grinned through her tears and with a dry throat quickly bade goodbye to the happy parents and left, hoping no-one had noticed she was crying.

Her blond husband apparated into their bedroom as she was levitating belongings haphazardly into a suitcase.

"Hermione? Darling? Hermione what are you doing?"

Even if she'd wanted to, the curly-haired woman was prevented from answering by the rivers of silent tears pouring down her cheeks. Draco moved over to her and grabbed her arms. She struggled against him but he was too strong and she was forced to halt her packing.

"Hermione, what's the matter?" he whispered.

She blubbered something about a baby.

"Oh, Hermione." Draco pulled his wife to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her and resting his chin on the top of her head.

When her crying had lessened into occasional sobs he asked, confused, "But what has this got to do with me? Why are you leaving?"

"You deserve better than me."

"What?! Hermione," he bent down so that he was level with her, looking her right in the eyes. "Don't ever say that! There is nothing better than you. I have never even come _close_ to being worthy of you."

"I can't give you a child, Draco. You'd be an amazing father and you want it so much and I'm stopping you from having that. There's something wrong with me - maybe I wouldn't be a good mother, that's why I'm not getting pregnant. If I go you can be with someone else, someone who's meant to have children."

"I don't think you quite understand, love. Yes, I want children – but I want _you_ to be their mother. I _only_ want them with you, with the woman I love. I don't care how long it takes us to conceive – we can adopt, whatever, so long as I'm with you." He brushed the hair out of her face and his silver eyes burned with sincerity. "Don't ever leave me, Hermione. I don't think I could live without you."

He kissed her for a long time, and when they pulled away he whispered "And I know, when the time comes, you'll be an amazing mother."

*****

Ten years later the Malfoys' London home rings with screams and peels of laughter. In the kitchen an inflatable paddling pool has been set up and a water fight is taking place. Hermione motions for the children to be quiet as she sneaks up behind Draco and deposits a bucket of freezing water on his head.

"Daddy's wet!" observes the youngest girl, removing her thumb from her mouth for only a moment.

"You got beaten by a giiiirl! You got beaten by a giiiirl!" taunts the only boy.

The middle child is too busy giggling to comment, eyes screwed shut as she shakes with laughter.

*****

That afternoon Hermione stands at the back door. "Scorp, Ottilie, Jasmine! Dinner time!" Her husband appears in front of her and, draping one arm around her shoulders, places the other on her well-rounded stomach.

"How's our little one doing?"

"He's very well, but his mummy is getting a bit of backache."

Draco moved smoothly around his wife and began to massage her shoulders, his chest pressed up against her back.

"His mummy looks even more beautiful when she's pregnant."

"That may be the case, but I don't think it'll be happening again. Four is quite enough, don't you agree? And I'm getting a little old…"

The blond was silent for a moment before he grinned. "Forty isn't old! And you didn't technically give birth to the three angels … in fact adopting we missed the entire first two years of Scorp's life and that's really the hardest part, so we've only had two babies…"

Hermione scoffed at her husband's appalling reasoning. "Are you saying Scorp doesn't count?"

"Of course he counts, he's my favourite. Joint with Otty. And Jazzy. And soon-to-be baby Pegasus. I just think we need more."

"Oh Merlin, Draco! Pegasus?! I'm beginning to regret letting you name the boys…"

*****

Hermione lay on a hospital bed with cold jelly covering her pronounced, but not yet huge, bump and a scanner being waved around. Draco bounced Ottilie up and down on his hip as he wondered whether or not it was worth trying to catch his other two children, who were, at this very moment, destroying the waiting room outside (helped by the Scamander twins).

"And there's your baby boy … and your other baby boy," announced Healer Creevey.

"Twins?!" Hermione tried to sit up in shock but was pushed back down.

Dennis's healer wife shrugged. "Older women are more likely to have multiple births. Not that you're old, 'Mione."

The curly-haired mother turned to her grinning husband.

"OK, these are absolutely the last. You are never coming near me again, do you hear? Never!"

Draco winked. "You know you can't resist my charm."

Mr and Mrs Malfoy flopped down, exhausted after wrestling five children into bed.

"You're right, five is definitely enough."

"Definitely."

"Because we've run out of bedrooms. We could build an extension, though."

"NO. Not after you called the baby Constantine. I am drawing a line."

Draco was silent for a very long time, arms wrapped around his wife as they lay in bed. Hermione, head buried in his chest, was beginning to think the blond had fallen asleep when he murmured almost inaudibly,

"I'm so glad you didn't leave."

**A/N:**** I hope you liked it :D**

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